True Filial Piety
Crunch. Crunch.
“Kyaaah!”
…When people in our country suddenly come into money, what's the first place they think to spend it?
Naturally, not everyone would give the same answer, but I'm convinced the majority would head straight to check out houses.
The reason was simple.
“Die! Die! Die!”
It was the most direct way to change one's quality of life.
Neighborhood security for the whole area, the house's lighting, the visible views...
All of it tied straight to psychological stability.
“...I never wanted to go through an incident like this ever again.”
If you couldn't live with peace of mind even at home every single day, human life turned exhausting.
In short, spending money to move was perfectly natural.
It could even be seen as a byproduct of basic human survival instincts.
After this horrific ordeal, I immediately called Seola.
[What? Because of cockroaches, let's go house hunting this weekend?]
“Yeah. There'll be some expenses, but I want to move.”
In truth, for ordinary folks or the middle class, a house was one of life's biggest expenditures.
So I figured Seola's jaw would drop at the massive sum...
[Yeah! Good thinking.]
“...Not as opposed as I thought?”
[No matter how much I hate spending money, it never seemed like a good choice for you physically or mentally to keep living there.]
“But it'll cost a ton.”
[Sis, did you really think I'd just sit by and watch you stay in a dump like that?]
“...”
[Not a penny wasted, so we're meeting this weekend? Got it?]
After hanging up with Seola.
While roughly browsing house prices in decent city-center neighborhoods, I couldn't help but fall deep into thought.
300 billion. What an awkward sum of money.
Precisely, it was around 38.4 billion won...
As everyone knows, profits from overseas stocks come with capital gains tax.
Local tax plus capital gains adds up to about 22% of the profit.
Tax alone was around 8.45 billion, and I had to give Grandfather a cut of the profits too, so less than 300 billion remained.
In fact, 300 billion wasn't pocket change even for me.
Even compared to my previous life, where I pulled in 140 billion annual salary.
Of course, in absolute terms, it was somewhat modest next to my old paychecks.
But this 300 billion? Earned in less than a week.
Factoring that in, I was actually out-earning my previous life right now.
Well, this was a special case, and I couldn't expect these returns every time.
Anyway, the answers to my question were mostly similar.
“Hmm. Houses it is, huh.”
I habitually stroked my nonexistent beard, and a sudden curiosity popped up.
“In my case, my living situation got so bad that looking for a house was obvious.”
But what about people who already had perfectly fine homes?
Why did even those with a guaranteed quality of life all chant “house” in unison?
Honestly, for regular people, the efficiency seems kinda poor relative to the cost.
Maybe folks saw houses as an investment.
But from a rich person's view, a house could never be an investment spot.
A typical residential house? If it rose 5% in a year, that was a good gain.
Even on a 20-billion-won house, profit was just 5% of 20 billion.
“A measly billion— who the hell sticks that on their nose?”
Less than what I'd blown in a single day at the department store with Seola.
No wonder the rich invest in “real estate,” not “houses.”
Same thing, you say? Hell no, there's a clear difference.
“Residential houses generate no cash flow, after all.”
The real estate rich people buy usually spits out massive rent or creates revenue—cash flows in.
Hotels, commercial spaces, office buildings...
A residential house? Sure, play landlord and get monthly rent, but how much is that really?
If you want real returns, invest in value-creating real estate.
“But 300 billion is a bit short for that...”
Bluntly put, way too little.
Unless I rolled some PF—Project Financing, borrowing against future business profits.
“But residential houses ain't cheap either.”
After scouring the internet, only two houses met my standards.
Problem was, their prices weren't as affordable as I'd hoped.
Cheongdam The Zenith
Exclusive area: 412.85㎡ (approx. 125 pyeong)
Recent transaction price: approx. 310 billion won
Aetherium Cheongdam
Exclusive area: approx. 365.20㎡ (approx. 110 pyeong)
Recent transaction price: approx. 240 billion won
Of course, incomparable to the New York penthouses from my previous life.
To normal people, 300 billion sounded huge, but New Yorkers had serious money.
How much? Ken Griffin, founder of legendary hedge fund Citadel LLC, bought a penthouse for a cool 330 billion won.
That said it all.
“...Even scraping together everything I have, I can't buy a single house.”
Sure, compared to right after possession with just 13,000 won to my name, it was worlds apart.
But still, reality was I couldn't even afford one house.
Say I somehow minimized taxes, scraped together more cash, and moved into that 310-billion apartment?
That far? Fine.
But next came the real issue.
Ultra-luxury complexes like in Cheongdam? Monthly maintenance fees started at millions of won.
Security, concierge, community facilities...
Practically more than rent on a normal place.
“And I'd need to do interiors.”
Can't move into a penthouse like that and leave the basic options as-is, right?
Naturally, interior costs for these skyrocketed over standard ones.
Several hundred thousand per pyeong was a joke; proper work would shatter 10 billion easy.
“...Expensive car too.”
I wasn't planning to hole up in the room forever.
So obviously, I'd need a car...
Parked next to all those sports cars, a single compact car would look out of place, no?
“When your lifestyle levels up, spending patterns change naturally.”
But, to be brutally honest...
Up to here? Fine.
If you ignore others' stares, just pay the monthly fees steady.
The real problem was elsewhere.
“But then I can't use the money.”
The moment you sink all your cash into a house, it's no longer money.
Just a house.
No matter how much it appreciates, you can't touch a dime till you sell.
“Absolutely not!”
Buying a 300-billion house with your entire 300-billion net worth? Insane.
Similarly, the 240-billion one was luxury I couldn't afford yet.
Luxury should always come from leftover money.
Frustrated, my mental calculator whirred.
“Even super safe at 10% annual? That's 31 billion a year. Tying up 310 billion for one house? No fucking way.”
You might think, “Then what, broke ass, whatcha gonna do?”
My plan was dead simple.
“Just win more and buy it!!!!”
What else?
Win enough to make 300 billion “leftover,” then buy.
The moment I vowed it aloud.
Crunch crunch. Crunch crunch.
“Kyaaah!”
[So... another cockroach chase, grabbed the essentials, and bolted from the house? That's the story?]
“...Yeah.”
[Sigh. Your old room from before is still free, at least.]
“Thank you!”
[But sis, didn't you make bank last time? Said we were house hunting, so why suddenly crashing here for a bit?]
“Ah, figured it's time I did some filial piety.”
[...Filial piety? Isn't real filial piety showing up clean and hardworking, helping with chores?]
Seola.
True filial piety isn't superficial show—it's making sure you live in a 310-billion ultra-luxury Cheongdam penthouse.